


In a place where only we say goodbye

by estel_willow, mandsangelfox



Series: At Our Swiftest Speed [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AOU spoilers, Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Feels, Gen, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 18:19:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3864925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estel_willow/pseuds/estel_willow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandsangelfox/pseuds/mandsangelfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>She closed her eyes, fearful that if she didn't think about him often she would forget the sharp angles of his face or the blue of his eyes. That she would forget the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand against her shoulder or back, or in her hair.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a place where only we say goodbye

Wanda's eyes opened slowly, feeling the fog of sleep clawing at her mind as she untangled herself from its final, swampy dredges. She rubbed the back of one hand over her eyes, the corners feeling damp with tears. She'd been crying again, although that wasn't unusual and she wondered what it was that had woken her. The room was still dark, the clock told her that it was little before 3am - witching hour, she remembered their mother telling her - and there was a tugging in her chest that felt like heartache and emptiness, a vast black hole where Pietro's life previously sat next to hers, alongside hers, intrinsically intertwined. 

He'd told her that nothing would ever keep them apart, he'd said that to her first when they were children, then again before they surrendered themselves to Baron Strucker to become powerful enough to avenge their family. Anger at him rippled through her and the darkened lampshade on the bedside table shot off to the left, shattering into pieces after being struck by a bolt of manifested, deep red anger.

The shattering of the porcelain caused Wanda to sit up in bed and flick the light on, flinching first at the bright artificial light. She reached out with her left hand, turning it so it was palm up and watching as the broken pieces slowly lifted, turning in lazy circles in the air. She thought about trying to fix it, putting the pieces back together carefully in some kind of metaphorical step to putting herself back together, to fixing what was broken by Ultron. She knew that the cracks would still remain, she couldn't fix them, it would still be damaged but maybe that would mean that there was hope for her. Maybe, if she could fix the shattered lamp, she would stand a chance of being fixed herself, of not feeling the pain for the rest of her life, not feeling...empty. 

Carefully, she lay the pieces down on the table and gracefully rose to her feet. The carpet was rough against her bare soles and she shivered as the cold night air kissed her bare arms. She didn't know how to wire a lamp or fix a glass bulb but there was no way she was going to be able to get back to sleep so she supposed she should use the time wisely. 

She wondered if Fury was watching her. She didn't need to be a telepath to know that he was unsettled. That he didn't trust her. After she had sent her brother to his death protecting the Hawk... If only she had asked Pietro to stay. If she had let him as he had wanted to. He would have still been alive, he would be there with her, in this room, chiding her playfully for breaking something and then helping her fix it, a steadying hand on her shoulder and a warm, soothing voice in her ear telling her she could. All she had to do was focus.

She closed her eyes, fearful that if she didn't think about him often she would forget the sharp angles of his face or the blue of his eyes. That she would forget the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand against her shoulder or back, or in her hair. That his scent would be lost to her forever and even the memories that she had to cling to would be insufficient to support her through her grief. As she did so, letting her eyes see nothing but the darkness of her closed lids, she tried to think of him alive, living, breathing, laughing. 

_Come on, little sister_ she remembered him teasing, always reminding her that he was twelve minutes older than her as if that made any real difference. _Just listen,_ he would say, _Listen to me and not the world. You can do this..._

The more she repeated those words, let them roll around in her mind, the clearer the picture of her brother became in her mind. It caused her to smile, a warmth to flood into her body like a comforting blanket. She grasped onto that feeling, twisting her fingers in it, wrapping herself in the feeling and not wanting to let go. What if she couldn't find this again? 

The silence in the room was deafening, not something silence should be, as she listened to the sound of her own heartbeat racing in her ears, desperately beating to keep those images of Pietro fresh in her mind. It was strange, but the more she let herself sink into that familiar warm sensation she'd conjured purely in her mind, the more it felt like she could... feel him there with her. Like she was sensing that life she'd felt snuffed out. Like there was a tiny flame that had survived, a flicker - barely a spark - that was there to be grown, nurtured, reignited.

All she had to do was reach out for it. For him.

When she opened her eyes again, the redness of her powers was swirling in her eyes and that feeling... that feeling hadn't gone away. She could still feel that... flicker. 

She knew, then, that something wasn't quite right and she needed to find out what it was. Needed to know where that flicker was coming from. 

She was going to reach out for him.


End file.
